


i am you, you are me

by londonromance



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Mostly Platonic, Pining, Unrequited Crush, but you know me lol, for saeran this is a Problem, mc is very physically affectionate, post-secret endings, spoilers about unknown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8168509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/londonromance/pseuds/londonromance
Summary: "He doesn’t understand her at all (but he’s beginning to want to)."mc helps saeran dye his hair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> .....................whoops
> 
> tbh after completing the secret endings, at this point i'm really just gunning for a poly relationship between the three but anyway

One day, Saeran comes back from the store with a box of red hair dye and unending nerves. He glances towards the living room as he’s taking off his clunky black boots. She’s sprawled on the couch, taking up the entire expanse, laying down while scrolling through her phone. She doesn’t seem to really be doing anything. 

Now is as good a time as any, he supposes.

He slowly makes his way towards the couch, stopping in his tracks when her eyes slide from her screen to him. Her acknowledgement of his existence makes him want to run into his room and slam the door, cradling himself until his breathing and mind stopped racing. He’s gotten a lot better, considering, but it still unnerved him to have people look directly at him without needing or wanting something out of him.

She looks curious but doesn’t prompt him, allowing Saeran to compose himself, taking a deep breath before unearthing the box of hair dye and setting it on the table without a word. He crosses his arms, over the worn grey sweater he had uncovered in the back of Saeyoung’s closet.

They were pretty similar physically, so mostly everything Saeyoung had fit Saeran. But he still felt so slight and awkward in Saeyoung’s clothes, like he was playing pretend, so he usually bundled himself in at least one piece of his own clothes so he felt more like himself. He had thrown his leather jacket over himself today, the soft worn material bringing him comfort.

“Could you…help me?”

“What, with this?” She slowly lets her arms fall from where they were holding her phone, letting the device drop into the crevices of the couch while she reached for the hair dye. She inspected the box carefully and scanned the instructions. “Not that I’m saying no, but wouldn’t Saeyoung be more helpful? I mean, he’s had more experience with disguises and stuff with his job…”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he mumbles. Saeran felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Nevermind, it was dumb of me to ask. I’ll figure it out myself.” He reaches for the box but she sits up, clutching the box to her chest.

“Wait!” His fingers curl into his hand before he’s back to clutching his sides, unsure of where this was going. She seems to sense that his nervousness and softens. “I’ll help you. Could you meet me in the bathroom in five? I just have to change.”

She seems to consider him for a moment and grasps the hem of his gray sweater, rubbing the fabric between her fingers carefully. He stiffens, nearly flinching at the near contact but then he remembers the white t-shirt he wore beneath the sweater and relaxes.

“Maybe you should change too. You wear this a lot…” she says. She gets up and runs towards her room, her long brown hair swinging behind her. “Meet back in five!” she calls over her shoulder.

Saeran let out a breath and took the hair dye with him into the bathroom.

She and Saeyoung were very physically affectionate with one another – poking each other in the oddest of places to get the other’s attention, tickling the other as a punishment for not doing the dishes, one of them (usually Saeyoung, to be honest) nuzzling into the other’s neck, slowly falling asleep when they had the other members over for movie nights.

(Jumin had a bigger flat screen, but Zen would absolutely refuse to attend so long as Jumin was stroking Elizabeth 3rd the entire time, so they had settled for Saeyoung’s slightly smaller (but still pretty impressive) television.)

Saeran wasn’t like that. He didn’t necessarily mind their outright affection for one another, but whenever Saeyoung tried to engage in the same sort of behavior with Saeran, Saeran would gently fold into himself and call Saeyoung an idiot. Usually, she would sense Saeran’s discomfort and distract Saeyoung so that he would forget all about Saeran. Saeran never thanked her, but sometimes their eyes met and she would softly smile at his impassive stare and he thought that might be a step in the right direction.

It wasn’t as if they were particularly close, but Saeran did recognize how much they would have to be in contact with each other, so he wasn’t unkind to her either. Considering all that had happened, he thought it was astonishing that she could even stand to be in his presence.

Though everyone were all in agreement that Saeran wasn’t in his right mind when he did all of those things, and thus forgave him, his actions still lingered in the back of his mind. He didn’t think he would really ever see her again, much less as his brother’s fiancé, but she was being really positive about the whole experience, even with the unconventional housing situation. She said it was fun, like having an extended sleepover, which Saeyoung grinned at and agreed with right away, kissing her cheek.

They were both so bold and bright sometimes, it hurt to look at them.

Saeran thumbed the hem of his gray sweater, much like she did, and took it off without a second thought. He _was_ rather attached to it, just because it was comfortable, so he’d hate to dye it accidentally.

He looked in the bathroom mirror and noted how dull his white hair seemed to him now, even the pink ends looking as lackluster as the dark circles under his eyes.

He had trouble sleeping most nights, tossing and turning and thinking too much until, unbidden, the sunlight streamed into his room. Even when he fell asleep, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t wake up hours mere later, in cold sweats and tears streaming down his face, Saeyoung rushing into his room to check on him.

If it were a more peaceful morning, he would hear her get up, sometime near noon if she could help it, slowly and softly making breakfast for the three of them until Saeyoung ambled into the kitchen to join her. He never really made an effort to rouse himself at her customary two knocks and quiet “ _Breakfast’s ready, Saeran_.” He preferred to take his small bites of toast and black coffee in solitude. It was just too early to ready himself for the barrage that was his brother.

She never stopped knocking, though. There were always leftovers of whatever she had made on the counter for him.

Sometimes he took a bite if he felt up for it.

Usually, it wasn’t half bad.

He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. Maybe this was a mistake. He was just about to tell her to forget it when he heard her open the bathroom door and make her way in. She was wearing an old black t-shirt and torn and ripped jeans, mismatched socks on her feet. One of them had binary code on it while the other had morse code. He was assured by Saeyoung last Christmas that it was the perfect gift for her.

“Ah, yeah, that’ll be perfect!” she said, pointing at his shirt. She pulled her hair into a makeshift bun and quickly got to work opening the box and dumping the contents unceremoniously into the sink. She seemed delighted at the mess she created and started comparing the contents of the box to the directions.

He was ever so slightly regretting this decision.

But it was better to trust her hands than his.

His hands forged disasters. Chaos was a creature comfort.

He still didn’t know if he was capable of more than that, really. He never really had the need to be more than a troublemaker. He was just fitting the role he’d been told he had filled all of his life – by his mother, by Rika…

He opened and closed his palms several times while she continued creating noise, eventually settling for putting the lid down on the toilet and seating himself.

She put on a pair of disposable gloves and set about mixing the appropriate amount of various pastes and liquids.

“So…not that it’s really any of my business, but how did _that_ happen?” she said, pointing one gloved finger at his hair.

He let the silence settle between them for a moment. “It’s how I was supposed to look for the party,” he said hesitatingly, folding his hands together.

“Ah,” she said simply, still intently reading the directions.

Unprompted, he found himself continuing. “We…we were supposed to be ready for it all the time, since…ah, since you were supposed to be our way into the RFA…” he rubbed his arm intensely, until it burned bright red, suddenly not knowing how to proceed. He felt his throat close of its own accord and the air seemed so very thin.

The noise from the vanity stopped. He heard the snap of a glove coming off before she gently pushed his hand away with her own. She held onto him for a moment, meeting his gaze intently. He was frozen with the contact, noticing the warmth of her hand warming his own until he felt the heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment but also something warm and soft he couldn’t name.

After a moment, she squeezed his hand and went back to the sink, putting on another pair of gloves.

“So, white for purity?” she said swiftly, continuing as if that moment between them had not passed.

“Something like that,” he said. He didn’t go into how he didn’t think there was any innocence left in him, to corrupt or regain or otherwise.

He knew he would never really be able to explain Mint Eye’s concept of the everlasting party to others without sounding completely insane. Even though he knew now that a lot of his compliance had to do with the steady stream of narcotics injected into him, he still couldn’t get others to grasp how desperate, how hopeful and wonderful Magenta had seemed to him and the other followers. It made everything seem worthwhile, the way that it promised something more, something better than the hell he had been put through.

“The pink?” she said.

He snapped out of his train of thought. “I don’t know, really.”

“Think it kinda suits you, in a way,” she smiled absentmindedly as his mouth fell open slightly. “I mean, you really look like a bad boy, you know? The kind of guy who knows the seedy underbelly of the city like the back of his hand and even though you know you can’t trust him, you do anyway because he’s magnetic and promises you more or something like it.”

He wasn’t sure how to take such a remark, but he felt the blush stain his cheeks in his confusion regardless.

She seemed to sense how much she got carried away and gave a little shake of her head, laughing at herself. “Sorry, I always create really big and elaborate back stories for people, like even complete strangers.”

“Is that…really what you thought of me?” he said.

“Well, no, because I was terrified when I met you,” she laughed. “I mean, you were kidnapping me! But still, kind of. I wouldn’t have thought you and Saeyoung were twins, at any rate.”

She let the conversation go. It struck Saeran, however, that the reason he was doing this in the first place wasn’t to appease his brother. It was an attempt to be himself again, whatever that meant.

It was like being a blank slate far too late, too late to cultivate your own sense of self and identity when all your life you had been told exactly everything you had to be. With his mother, Saeran was to be non-existent, quiet to the point of unconscious. With Rika, he was a tool, a means to an end. Without either, Saeran was at a lost, a void that had yet to be filled. He couldn’t necessarily say that his childhood was when he was most himself, but it was the closest he had and if he was to begin again, he needed a starting point.

“So does that mean you didn’t do it yourself?” she said.

He snapped out of his thinking. “Ah, no. It was part of the purification process. Everyone was to be transformed to the state that would make them most happy at the party, so…so it was done by the other members, though they were just following what Rika told them. The savior knew best,” he said with a scoff.

She nodded in understanding, though he wasn’t sure if she was just being nice or not.

“Anyway,” she considered the bowl of dye, which now resembled something like Saeyoung’s hair color. She briefly ran her hand through Saeran’s bangs. He froze but didn’t stop her. “Yeah, this should be enough. Are you ready?”

He nodded and grabbed a towel from the rack behind her, wrapping it around himself.

“Oh, wait, let me just,” she pulled off the gloves and grabbed the jar of Vaseline in the medicine cabinet. “So it doesn’t stain you. Can I…?”

He nodded once again, though more jerkily.

She put a dollop of the gel onto her palm and gently began spreading it on the edges of his hairline. She leaned in close, so much so that he could faintly smell her perfume, something warm and floral but also comforting, like a warm crackling fire. He felt himself relax into it, her warm touch and soft scent not completely unpleasant. 

He felt her warmth leave before he realized she was grabbing the gloves and dye once again.

She started grabbing sections and applying the red paste onto his hair, working methodically. He supposes this is why he trusted her more than him. He saw the way she would intently follow recipes to make them dinner sometimes, when she wanted to try something new and had time to prepare something before Saeyoung grabbed a takeout menu from his collection in the kitchen drawer. She would swat him away while she piled vegetables and meat into a pan, claiming they all needed a home cooked meal every once in a while.

She always wanted to try new things, but had settled into a rotation of comforting classics since Saeran joined them for dinner. She would notice what he would pick at and what he preferred and slowly filtered through her repertoire until all that was left were his favorites.

Saeyoung would go along with the act and walk out of the kitchen only to come back in and yell, _“Honey, I’m home!”_ He would be insistent on a sit down meal with everyone around the table during these occasions, even if he had to clear the table of all of his chip packets and empty soda cans first. Saeran would let his brother flitter about, causing more harm than help. He would calmly set the table and patiently wait for them to finish their routine.

“Sorry if this turns out terribly, by the way,” she said as she moved to his left side. “I’ve never really done this before, although I’ve always wanted to! My hair is so boring.”

“It’s…nice, the way it is,” he mumbled, unsure of why he felt the need to reassure her, though it wasn’t untrue. 

She seemed surprised at his comment, but smiled. “Thank you, Saeran,” she said sincerely. She continued layering the dye on until the last strand was coated. “Okay! All done,” she said, taking off her gloves and throwing them in the garbage, along with the rest of the materials. “We have thirty minutes until we can rinse it out.”

She looked at him yet again. He was so unnerved by her when she did that. He felt like he had nothing so interesting about him that she had to constantly stare at him this way. She was so considerate, which was probably why he chose her in the first place. Even with nothing in it for her, she would attempt to return a stranger’s cell phone, organize a party, and risk her life to save him. He constantly questioned this in his mind. Most of it could be for Saeyoung’s benefit, but even when he wasn’t here, like now, she was being gracious. It was so strange to him that a person could be this selfless.

“Do you want to watch this drama with me?” she said suddenly. She seemed to realize her forwardness. “You don’t have to, but it might be a good way to pass the time.”

“Okay,” he said, not really knowing why.

She beamed at him.

He felt the heat return to his cheeks.

( _Oh._  

Was that why?)

* * *

“Why is this girl so stupid?”

“Why do you say that?” she says.

“This boy was cold to her and then he was nice, but then he pushed her away, but she’s still pursuing him. What kind of girl wouldn’t give up on an idiot who can’t make up his mind like that?”

She smiles. “You’re looking at her.”

“My brother treated you this way?”

“Yeah, he can be really _tsundere_ when he wants to be,” she says offhandedly, grabbing some popcorn and then offering the bowl to Saeran.

He glances between the screen and her, though her attention is already back on the drama.

 _He doesn’t deserve you_ , a small voice in him says.

He ignores it and grabs some popcorn.

* * *

She’s busying herself with preparing dinner when he came back, clutching his arm behind his back, slowly making his way into the kitchen. She stops cutting vegetables when she sees him.

“Wow! I did a good job,” she says, smiling. She approaches him closer and runs her hand through his hair. He doesn’t feel himself stiffen at her touch, rather allows her to play with his hair, moving it this way and that. Though she seems mesmerized by him, he’s more captivated by the wonderment in her eyes. She takes a step back and looks at him, her thumb and index fingers cupping her chin.

“Is it weird to say you look more yourself more than you look like him?”

He feels something in him collapsing under the weight of her sentiment, like a piece falling into place after being broken for so long, finally finding out where it was meant to be.

“No…no, it’s not,” he says slowly, coming to himself after a long while. “That’s what I wanted.”

“Good!” She grins, and he attempts a smile back, though it comes out soft and small.

She still seems pleased.

He doesn’t understand her at all (but he’s beginning to want to).

* * *

Later, Saeyoung would come home from grocery shopping and let the bags fall out of his hands when he sees Saeran. He’ll slowly walk towards his brother, narrating his expedition like it’s a segment out of a history channel (“ _This is a strange and foreign encounter with an unknown beast, we must approach with caution, folks_ …”) until Saeran cannot physically roll his eyes further back into his head. She’s watching the exchange with a hand covering her laugh, though her shaking shoulders are a dead giveaway.

Saeyoung wants to touch his hair too, with even more reverence than she did, though by now Saeran’s just exasperated and regretting his life choices.

Saeyoung will grasp Saeran’s shoulder and turn them to face her, saying, _“Let’s play the which one is Saeyoung game!”_

She will roll her eyes but goes with it, going up to the twins and considering them both, tapping her cheek with her finger in mock thought.

“This one is Saeyoung,” she says, pointing to the corresponding twin. “And this one is Saeran.” She ruffles Saeran’s hair and kisses Saeyoung’s nose. “And _both_ of them get to help me with dinner!”

She laughs when they both groan, and grabs both of their hands and leads them to the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> don't saeran and saeyoung remind you of hikaru and kaoru from ouran? lol
> 
> sequel where mc doesn't guess the twins correctl;y?? huehuehu


End file.
